Frank Turner - Sunday Nights lyrics

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Sunday nights are slow surrender.<br />

It never lasts and we never learn.<br />

We can still make this one to remember.<br />

It's Sunday night and we've time to burn.<br />

Tomorrow morning can wait it's turn.<br />

So charge your glasses and raise a toast to the memory gained, <br />

To the sleep that we lost.<br />

Another weekend run to ground, <br />

Another passing coat of red painted across our town.<br />

Work is shallow, cuts are deep, but who would waste two days respite?<br />

You can't catch up on sleep.<br />

So here we are, last chance saloon, <br />

The ticking clock and a slow defeat, it'll all be over soon.<br />

Once more friends unto the breach, bleary-eyed, <br />

The stuff of dreams always slips out of reach.<br />

Defiance dressed in crumpled clothes, <br />

Protest played out with a headache, starting late and going slow.<br />

So though we know we have to be here, <br />

We have tasted freer air, so we don't have to care.<br />

All our days will fade away in hazy nights and clear mistakes.<br />

So here's to us and needs that must.<br />

Let's raise a toast for one last boast<br />

Because it's Sunday night and we've time to burn.<br />

Tomorrow morning can wait it's turn.